


Soldier

by tianaluthien



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Best Friends, Episode Tag, Episode: s01e12 Murder in the Dark, F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 19:04:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13196586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tianaluthien/pseuds/tianaluthien
Summary: He’s under siege the moment she starts to loosen his tie. It’s the way she looks at him, trying to her usual flirtatious self but unable to hide the haunted look in her eyes. Unable to hide the way her hands grow gentler as she tugs on the knot. A Phrack ficlet set during the events of Murder in the Dark.





	Soldier

He’s under siege the moment she starts to loosen his tie. It’s the way she looks at him, trying to her usual flirtatious self but unable to hide the haunted look in her eyes. Unable to hide the way her hands grow gentler as she tugs on the knot.

He cannot breathe, not properly. Even through the layers he feels the warmth of her skin. She is so close, yet so far, and if he is not careful he will take her face in his hands and kiss her senseless. If he is honest, he’s been wanting to since that day in the café.

But he only plays for keeps – and what Phryne Fisher plays for is another matter entirely. 

“If you want a Roman soldier,” Jack says, his voice unsteady, his eyes fastened on hers, “I can take it from here.”

Phryne stops, the flirtation gone from her eyes. For a moment they only look at each other, Phryne and Jack and open. Then the walls are back in place. Phryne takes the note with her name on it and leaves the room, flashing him a sinful smile.

Alone, Jack drops into a chair and lowers his head into his hands. Dear God, he _wants_ too much. He is still shaking.

He is just reaching for his half-loosed tie when she returns, face ashen, a blue ribbon in her hand.

And then all hell breaks loose.

~

It’s late.

Murdoch Foyle is long gone and Jack has finished questioning Jane and Mr. Butler and the rest of the household, now huddled together in the kitchen.

Except for Phryne.

She paces the sitting room, eyes too wide and face too pale. Her words run over each other, repeating and growing more hysterical by the moment. He doesn’t want to leave her, not like this, and so he listens and waits and watches and gradually she seems to calm.

At last Dot comes in, but Phryne won’t budge. She stares at Jack and the terror in her gaze is the last straw. He reaches for her arm, closes his fingers gently around her elbow. Just enough that she knows he is there, and – God help him – always will be.

“Sleep Phryne,” he says.

Miracle of miracle, she listens and allows Dot to lead her up the stairs. Jack watches, every falter in her step making his blood boil.

Murdoch Foyle has picked a war with the wrong man.


End file.
